A/N: Ok peeps, so this chapter deals with abuse, both semi-graphic physical abuse, and speaks of sexual abuse. There is no graphic sexual abuse, in fact, it's only mentioned by the doctor. But I figured I'd warn anyways.

Also... YAY FOR ME GETTING THE INTERNET BACK! :D Stupid internet people, taking away my internet. Don't they know that the fans will kill me if I don't post? :D j/k, j/k, you guys are great. : )


Hyde had just gotten into the story -two young kids, a boy and a girl, who got lost in the woods of northern Wisconsin- when a sharp pain in his head pulled him violently back into reality.

He came to, only to try scrambling backwards, forgetting that he was still handcuffed to the pipe, and that Curt had a firm grip on his hair. Practically ripping his head off his shoulders.

"Where the hell you been, boy?" The older man demanded, punctuating his question with a swat of his free hand. "Your mother's been worried sick about you, you little shit."

"I... I..." Hyde struggled to come up with an answer -any answer- that would get him out of a royal ass-whooping, but after glancing up at Curt's bloodshot eyes, he knew that no answer he came up with would save him.

"Well? I'm waitin' for an answer, boy!"

"My friends came over; they got worried, so they took me back to their house," Hyde said woodenly. "I came back as soon as I woke up."

This time, a solid punch from Curt's meaty fist sent dots dancing in his vision. "You little retard! You think you got friends? That's a riot, boy. Don't nobody like you," He sneered.

Hyde didn't hear the rest of what he said. Didn't feel what Curt did to him. He tuned it out, sliding -almost effortlessly- back into his world of make-believe.

But not quite strong enough to block out all the pain. As time went on, Hyde could feel more and more of the agony his body was going through, slipping into his fantasy world.

He tried to ignore it; tried to keep focusing on his story. It didn't matter. Whatever happened out there didn't matter.

It happened sometimes; he wasn't always able to slip into the story. There were times when, even if he managed it, he couldn't completely escape the real world. Sometimes were easier than others.

So he burrowed deeper into the story, pushing deeper and deeper to try and escape the blinding, mind-numbing pain his body was going through.


It was three o'clock in the morning when the phone rang, prompting Red to curse as he blindly reached around for the damn thing.

"Hello?" He said curtly. "You have any idea what ti-"

"Mr. Forman? Red Forman?"

Instantly, Red was awake, sitting up in bed, as Kitty began to stir beside him. "Yes, this is him."

"Mr. Forman, this is the Point Place emergency room. We have a young man here. Says his name is Steven Hyde. We tried getting a hold of his mother, but we haven't been able to contact her yet. He kept asking for you and your wife."

"Is he okay?" Red asked, motioning for Kitty to be silent for a moment.

"Well... It'd be better if you just came down."

"We'll be there," Red said, hanging the phone up, before turning to Kitty. "Get dressed. Steven's in the hospital, and he's asking for us."


"Oh thank God," Kitty whispered as they walked up to the nurse's desk. "Doctor Alvarez is on. He's a good doctor. Steven got lucky with him."

Red ignored her as he strode purposefully up to the desk. "I'm Red Forman. Here to see about Steven Hyde."

"Oh, hi. You must be Kitty's husband. It's nice to meet you, although it's under such terrible circumstances. I assume you're close to the boy?" The doctor asked, ushering them down a hallway.

"Yeah. We're kind of like his home away from home," Kitty said, forcing a small laugh. It was odd for her to be in the hospital for a personal reason rather than work. "How is he?"

"Well, he's not critical. We've got him stabilized in right now. We've got a chest tube in him right now for the punctured lung, and we've given him a transfusion for the blood he lost. His left arm suffered a compound fracture. The thing that worries us is after we got him out of surgery, he remained conscious long enough to ask for you two, and then slipped away. He still hasn't awoken."

"When was he brought in?" Kitty asked with a frown. The doctor was giving her the 'look' that said he needed to speak to her in private.

"About twelve o'clock this afternoon."

"And you're just now calling us? What kinda medical quack are you?" Red demanded angrily.

Alvarez took it in stride, never slowing. "Our first issue was keeping him alive. Then trying to figure out who he was, and who dropped him off here. Once he told us his name, we tried contacting the mother. When we got no response, we asked who else we could call, and he said you."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute. What do you mean 'who dropped him off'?" Kitty asked, holding up a hand in confusion.

"We've reviewed the cameras; somebody pulled up to the emergency room doors, slowed the car down, shoved him out of the backseat, and kept moving. We couldn't read the plates. Ah, here we are. Now, I'll warn you: it looks worse than it is. Other than the punctured lung, and his arm, he's fine."

Kitty watched as Red physically steeled himself to walk through door...

And was horrified herself when she followed him into the small room.

He did look bad. Mottled bruises of all shades were visible on all the skin she could see, along with a littering of cuts scattered here and there. He was deathly still, and pale; the only movement was the small rising of his chest, and the only sounds that of the heart monitor, and the suctioning sound of the chest tube.

"Kitty, could I talk to you for a moment outside? Mr. Forman, if you could try talking to the boy, see if you get any response. I just have some medical history questions that Kitty might be able to answer for me."

Kitty nervously followed Dr. Alvarez out into the hall. "I don't know how much help I'll be; his medical file here is probably a mile long," She said bitterly.

"Yes, that's part of what I wanted to talk to you about. Steven shows long term signs of abuse. Do you know anything?"

"Yes. Red and I have called CPS over twenty times, and they refuse to do anything. They say they can't unless Steven admits what's happening, and he refuses," She said with quiet desperation. "We keep trying, but nothing we do does anything."

"Well... Unless we can suddenly contact his mother, would you be willing to accept a temporary placement in your home? I'm sure I can work it out with Social Services."

"Oh yes! Of course we would. We've been trying to get him to stay with us ever since he became friends with our son!" Kitty said joyfully. "Do you think you can?"

Dr. Alvarez nodded, then continued on hesitantly, "Kitty, do you know the extent of the abuse?"

"Well... I know she beats him. Burns him with cigarettes, doesn't buy him the proper clothes. I don't think I've ever seen the child with a jacket. Why?"

"Because... Well... During our exam, we noticed... Well, we seen signs of long-term sexual abuse. Including an incident that must have happened within the last twenty-four hours. His rectum shows signs of long-term scarring, and one of the reasons for the transfusion was that he was bleeding so severely from there."

Kitty felt her legs turn to jelly, but she couldn't stop herself from sliding to her knees, tears running down her face like a river, as she felt her heart being ripped out of her chest. "Oh, God, no. Please, God," She cried. "No, no, no. Not that. Oh God, please, not that."

Dr. Alvarez knelt beside her, and held her tightly, letting her cry on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Kitty. So, so sorry," He whispered.


Red nervously sat down in the chair next to the bed, crossing his legs, then uncrossing them, then recrossing them, before he leaned back, then leaned forward, then finally sitting still.

"Uh... hey... Steven. Um... I don't really know what to say. I don't understand why you let your mom do this to you; all you have to do is tell the social worker what she's doing, and you could be out of there. You could come live with us. Hell, you and the other dumb-asses practically live there anyways; might as well make it permanent, huh? We'd even kick Eric out of his room if you wanted. Make him sleep on the couch for a while. It'd be good for him, you know? Build some character," He said with a chuckle, before leaning in closer to Steven's still form again.

"Look... Steven. I know you're scared. I don't know why, but I understand. You're in a tough situation, kid. Most kids would have curled up and died years ago.

"But not you. You keep on fighting. You're a good kid, Steven. A strong kid. I'd... I'd really like it if you come live with Kitty and me. I'd... I'd be proud to call you my son," He finished, nearly choking to keep the tears from his eyes.

There was no response. The heart monitor continued beating slowly, while the chest tube continued the suctioning noise every twenty seconds. The rise and fall of the thin boy's chest was slow; Red wasn't a doctor, but it seemed too slow.

"Red?"

Red quickly stood, scrubbing at his eyes as his wife entered. "Uh, yeah, Kitty. Did you help the doctor?"

Tears filled his wife's eyes again. "Oh, Red. He said... He said... That Steven showed signs of... Signs of... ongoing... sexual abuse," She sobbed, running to him, and embracing him tightly.

Red couldn't even find it in himself to hug his wife back, to comfort her. For a moment, he thought he couldn't breath as the world around him seemed to come to a crashing halt.

Pull yourself together, man! Came a strong voice in his head. Somebody's has to take charge here. And you're the man!

"It'll... It'll be alright, Kitty. We'll figure this all out. Somehow. Everything will be alright," He said woodenly, forcing the words out just as he forced himself to wrap his arms around Kitty.

Because he knew it was a lie. Nothing would ever be right again. Not for Steven.